Afternoon Tea
by Loki Mischeif-Maker
Summary: While their parents are attempting to enjoy a conversation over tea in the drawing room, Sirius is trying to avoid the expected beating from his cousin, Bellatrix. Before the Marauders came to Hogwarts.


**Disclaimer:** I can lay no claim to the Black family— the characters appearing and discussed are property of JK Rowling, genius behind Harry Potter.

**Author's Note:** A couple of things worth noting— first of all, in the confines of this fic Sirius is five and Bellatrix is eight (I always thought she was the elder). Secondly, as Sirius _is_ five, his mother has a mentality that "he'll grow out of it" (something that fortunately, never does happen). I hope that explains those three. Cheers! — Loki

* * *

As quietly as he could, Sirius edged into the drawing room, chancing nervous glances into the hallway— he'd outrun her thus far, but on the long chase Bella invariably won. He crept further into the drawing room, expecting at any moment he'd knock something over or his mother would demand, none-too-quietly, to know what he was doing there— either way alerting his cousin to his whereabouts.

Thankfully, he'd had sense enough to leave his shoes on the doorstep while Bella was still working her way through the roses— both of them would be pulling thorns from unlikely places for weeks but at least it had slowed her down. He might be able to creep around his mother and aunt unnoticed in stocking feet, after all.

"Ah, yes, the start of another school year," his mother was saying. "Your oldest— Andromeda— started this year, didn't she?"

"Why, yes, she did," his aunt replied. "She was jumping about in excitement."

"If you don't mind my asking," Sirius's mother continued as he skirted the back of the sofa towards a door, "which house is she in?"

"Ravenclaw. It's not really a surprise, and barely a disappointment, either, I suppose. The girl's always got her nose buried in a book. It probably suits her better to be around like-minded people— provided they're of our kind, of course," she added.

"Indeed," his mother agreed.

Sirius reached for the handle of the closet door— there was a halfway comfortable pile of old cloaks and a ripped sofa cushion hidden in the back, where he'd recently managed to keep a family of mice for weeks until Kreature had somehow discovered them. He'd hide there until Bella found something more interesting to do than beat her cousin.

"Sirius, what are you doing here?" his mother demanded suddenly without turning to look at him.

The boy whirled around, letting go of the doorknob and drawing his hands behind him, the very picture of mischief caught in the act. "Nothing, Mum," he answered honestly, glancing at the door wistfully— he'd never get in there with his mother aware of it.

"If you've got another small animal, you'd best go put it back outside where it belongs— Kreacher told me about the last one," she announced, glancing back at him with raised eyebrows.

"It's not anything like that, Mum, I promise," Sirius answered with the grin that made his aunts laugh and call him a charming little fellow— the one that sometimes, in their presence, let him get away with murder. "Bella's out to get me, that's all."

Both women laughed. "Bellatrix?" his aunt asked. "What are the two of you really playing?"

Sirius shrugged, aware that he probably couldn't get either of them to believe him. He'd wandered to the sofa near the middle of the room be then; though he didn't like his mother and could rarely stand his aunt, just now anything was better than Bella— three years older and a head taller— pounding him into the dirt.

"Sirius, please go play with her— you aunt and I are having a private conversation," his mother told him, not particularly humoring.

"You're just talking about Meda," he pointed out.

"Well, yes, but we are trying to enjoy an afternoon in which are children can amuse themselves— and get your fingers out of the teacake."

Sirius changed his absent attention from the icing to a nearby spoon. "She's going to kill me."

His aunt laughed. "Honestly, Sirius, dear, well I won't deny the two of you can get a little rambunctious, she's not going to hurt you. Where's Cissa?"

_Want to bet?_ Sirius couldn't help but think. "She's upstairs playing with Reg," he announced, well aware the adults were about to send him out of the room. Meda used to play with him— she'd always been up for an adventure, like in the books she'd always read him— and she'd kept Bellatrix from completely killing him. _Why_ had Meda had to leave for school, leaving him with no choice but to try to keep from collecting too many bruises from Bella?

"Well, if you don't want to play with Bella, why don't you go play with them?" his mother asked.

"They're not doing anything interesting," Sirius complained.

"Neither are we," his mother pointed out logically, "at least not to a five-year-old boy. Why do you want to sit with us, then?"

"'Cause you might try to stop Bella when she catches me!"

His mother and his aunt both just laughed again, however. "She's not going to hurt you. Run along, now, Sirius, and if you've really got a frog in your pocket, take it _outside_," his mother ordered.

"Bold little thing, isn't he sometimes?" his aunt commented.

"Audacious, more often," his mother complained.

Sirius knew better than to disobey his mother when she took that tone, but he left through the other door he'd came in— Bella was more likely to be near the front of the house, and was seriously considering hiding in the attic, which in addition to being dirty enough Bella might not follow him was full of interesting mysteries. He tiptoed in the direction of the stairs, only to be startled by a girl's yell.

"Found you!"

No longer trying to be quiet about it, Sirius made a mad dash for the stairs, though Bella's longer legs quickly put her right on his heels. He knew the house better, but twisting from one room to the next in a zigzag couldn't buy him nearly as much space as he needed.

She cornered him in the hall, and as he had always decided when Andromeda wasn't there to stop them, he was going to make it worth the bruises. Bella had him tightly enough by the shoulder, after all, that it was already likely that he had one. "Now," she announced, "are you going to take back what you said about my dress?"

"No," Sirius answered, yelping as he fingernails dug into the meat on his shoulder. "That dress _does_ make you look fat. 'Less of course it's not the dress."

Bella moved her grip down to his arm, where it hurt more. He yelped, which only made a nasty grin cross his cousin's face. "Take it back," she suggested.

"No."

She pushed him into a nearby table, shaking it. Both of them watched as if spellbound as the vase sitting a little too near the edge of the tabletop wobbled, fell, and shattered on the floor, followed by a crash as a pair of books followed suite. Sirius managed to push the girl off of him. "You're in for it now," he announced.

"_I'm_ in for it?" Bella repeated. "What do _I_ have to do with this? You're the one that hit the table!"

"You pushed me into it!"

Both of their mothers were getting up the stairs by then, and when they appeared Bellatrix was fast to get her say out first. "Sirius ran into the table."

"I did not! She pushed me!"

"Why would I push you into the table?" Bella demanded, glowering at him. "I most certainly didn't do it, anyway, Mother, Aunt."

"Yes you did! You pushed me to get back 'cause I called you fat!" Sirius exclaimed. The minute he said it, though, he realized he might have done better to keep his mouth shut. The look his mother was giving him, at least, was not encouraging.

"Is _that_ what this is all about? Get to your room, young man, and I'd better not here any sounds coming from _there_. You're father will deal with you later."

"Why d'you always blame _me_? She broke the vase!" he complained, crossing his arms defiantly.

"_Sirius_!"

He trudged off towards his room, slamming the door behind him and sitting on his bed, still grumbling to himself. "Why is it always _me_?" he asked again.


End file.
